Missing You....

I once had a man tell me that he would do anything to bring the moon and the stars to me to show me how beautiful I was to him. I had only met him once. Sometimes I wish that man weren't just in my dreams. I told him that I wanted to be the girl that guys sing about in country songs. "Why?" "Because they always sound so in love with them, like they care about them and notice everything about them. I want to be that girl for somebody." "One day baby girl you'll find a guy that treats you the way you need to be treated." One day. One day I'll meet you. One day I might hold out my hands to the sky and bask in the sunlight of life and I'll meet you because you'll be basking in the same light. One day I might find you swimming, treading water to keep from drowning because we both jumped in at the same time and the current keeps changing. One day I might meet you. It's surprising the connections that you can make with people, or the connections that you can break. There have been many people in my life that have slipped through my fingers and that I wish I had held on to. Maybe I was too clumsy to catch them, or too selfish to notice that they were falling. I can't help but feel like I've missed something. I've missed you. I've missed moments and laughs that echo in friendship. Yet, like the sunrise and sunset, we cannot hold onto these moments forever. If he had moved the moon and the stars to bring a glow to my face, they would need to go back to their place, but their warmth would be forever on my heart. I've always liked hugging old trees because you can feel the warmth of their soul on your cheeks. You can feel their oldness coat your arms as you breath deeply together with the wind. I fear that's what I've missed in people, breathing together wrapped in smiles. Or maybe that's what people have missed in me. Maybe we've missed each other, aiming for a future that changes as the seasons change, but will always return. Maybe we missed each other by a falling leaf, or a breath, or a glance of the sunset. Maybe we missed each other by a cloud covering the moon, or a meteor tail, or a drip of water. Or maybe we haven't missed each other at all, at least not yet. Standing like trees in a grove, always together, but too rooted to move, watching people climb in our branches and carving names into our skin. Maybe I haven't missed you yet.